Kill The Pig. Cut Her Throat. Spill

Don't Get Me Wrong. I Have Nothing Against This As A Method, But It Is Not What English Writers Do.

Simon Became Inarticulate In His Effort To Express Mankind's Essential Illness.

They Walked Along, Two Continents Of Experience And Feeling Unable To Communicate.

We're All Mad, The Whole Damned Race. We're Wrapped In Illusions, Delusions, Confusions About The Penetrability Of Partitions, We're All Mad And In Solitary Confinement.

When You Take A Child Who's Hollering Like Hell, Sit Him On Your Knee, And Say "once Upon A Time", You Stop Him Hollering. As Long As You Go On Telling Him A Story, He Will Listen. Novelists Who Neglect This Fundamental Effect Do So At Their Peril. They Become What Is Known As The Experimental Novelist, And An Experimental Novel Is Not Really A Novel At All.